


dreamweaver

by dnovep



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Aftercare, Anxiety, Badly Written First Fic, Bath Sex, Canon Compliant, Depression, Dom Phil Lester, Dom/sub, Dreams, Fluff, Food, Handcuffs, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Childhood Neglect, Is It Kink Shaming If You're Saying It To Yourself?, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Medication, Oral Sex, Past Tense, Present Tense, Rating May Change, References to Depression, References to Withdrawal, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Fantasy, Shame, Smut, Sub Dan Howell, Subspace, Therapy, Valentine's Day, Waterboarding, angst????, being fed, but no references to That Video, but not really, classic gemini overthinking, hands flying off as a dream metaphor, kinda i guess, the tense changes in the third chapter so that's fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnovep/pseuds/dnovep
Summary: Dan has a recurring dream, and a best friend who he loves very much, and a habit of overthinking."He looked down to see his hands separating at the wrists. There was no gore, no veins or bones, just a clear break between his forearms and his hands. His hands floated away. Dan woke up."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fic so i'm sorry if it's unreadable!!!  
> also, the file got corrupted so i've had to type it all up again, so i'm sorry if it sounds like "the arm fly up and away oh no!!!" or whatever.  
> i don't own dan and/or phil - these are just characters based on the ideas of real people. i don't assume to know anything at all about their real families, or their relationship, or A N Y T H I N G.  
> thank you for reading!!!!

It started as a nightmare, and it started during Dan’s first year at University. He woke in his tiny bed in the dark, grasping at his sheets that desperately needed a wash. Dan gasped and shook the tingling from his hands and remembered flashes of an unnerving dream.

He had been in the lecture hall he found himself in every Monday and Wednesday afternoons (when he actually made it in). As he took notes the lecturer began to talk faster and faster. It made less and less sense. Dan found himself staring at the lecturer until something started to feel… wrong. He looked down to see his hands separating at the wrists. There was no gore, no veins or bones, just a clear break between his forearms and his hands. His hands floated away. Dan woke up.

He didn’t fully remember the nightmare that first night, but after it had repeated five or six times over the course of the term, the details became so clear to Dan that he could’ve re-made the dream as a perfect recreation in video form and put it up on his YouTube channel (if he’d had any desire to do so).

The recurring dreams stopped for a while after Dan dropped out of University. His dreams were instead full of Phil’s eyes morphing into oceans and the streets of Manchester repeating and phones becoming cameras becoming eyes. Mostly though, nights were for sitting in front of the balcony window of their shared Manchester apartment and losing hours to trains of thought that started with the question “is YouTube a sustainable career?”, moved swiftly to “what happens when we die?”, and eventually wound up with “what’s the point?”.

In the morning Phil would look at Dan’s red eyes, purple shaded under their itchy dryness, and sigh. And Dan would feel like dirt (or less).

The Dream (as it had been around for so long Dan thought it probably deserved a title) returned in 2011, slightly altered but with the same never-changing conclusion.

They had moved to London, they had done the first couple episodes of their radio show for the BBC, their subscriber counts took huge leaps every day. The stakes were high, as were their stress levels. Constantly. Anxiety sat in the new flat like an unwanted houseguest.

This was how The Dream played out then: Dan was in the radio studio/editing a video for his channel/filling in a very important form and his hands began to tingle and sting around his wrists. And then, of course, away they’d go. Different settings, same plot.

When Dan was young he had sometimes been able to spot when he was dreaming and set-off a lucid dream. It seemed impossible to recognise These Dreams while they were happening though, as every time the strain in Dan’s wrists started to give way into the gradual separation of his forearms and hands it would shock him anew every time.  
_I’m dying, don’t leave, I can’t do anything if you leave. I’ll fail._  
_I’ll fail, I’ll die, it’s done._  
_It’s done, it’s done, it’s done._

The weird thing was, for how unsettling the dreams had been during that first phase of having them, nowadays Dan had started waking up from them with a feeling of utter calm (the exception being the one time he had dreamt that his hands separated while he was filming, when he woke up clutching the sheets and thinking _they can’t know they can’t know they can’t know_ ).

Most mornings after he’d had The Dream Dan’s hands felt light and empty, until the anxiety and To-Do’s of the day would tense them into heavy fists again.

Something changed around 2013. Phil began to appear in The Dreams.

Now when Dan’s hands flew off him, Phil caught them. More specifically, Dan’s hands floated towards Phil like he was their centre of gravity.

And when Dan analysed it (because to Dan the concept of ‘himself’ had always been something amorphous, confusing, and continually impossible to reach – classic Gemini) he thought it made perfect sense.

_Phil is his best friend, his occasionally more, his business partner ex-boyfriend with benefits. Phil is the person in the room next to his. Phil is sat on the other side of the sofa. Phil is ‘coming home and feeling safe again’, “d’you fancy pizza?”, the breathe out at the end of the day._

So of course his brain chose Phil to represent safety.

Sometimes when they fucked (now that that was possible again, tentatively) Phil held Dan’s wrists. It felt electric, every time. A spark travelling down Dan’s spine, softening his eyes, pitching his voice a little higher, a little quieter. Everything felt easier when his best friend was holding him down.

Dan was not sure what that meant.

Or, he knew, but he’d be damned if he was okay with admitting it (even only to himself). It’d taken long enough to be able to start sifting through the years of built-up bullying-induced internalised homophobia (or, biphobia? What is he? Does it matter? Of course it matters, what is he?). He was definitely not ready to think of himself as liking guys _and_ being… what? Passive. Reliant. Needy. (Submissive.)

So he moaned when Phil grabbed his wrists like he owned him, and was as loud and demanding and bossy as possible the rest of the time.

‘Needy’ had a whole other set of run-on connotations to it, for Dan. ‘Needy’ was being a kid and being ignored by his Mum. ‘Needy’ was being a family cost expense. ‘Needy’ was when he asked his Mum and Dad if they’d come and see his play and they said they were “busy”, and “your Grandma will see it”. “Isn’t that enough?”. “Never enough, never enough, nothing’s ever enough for you Daniel, is it?”.

Needy meant being a nuisance, being rejected, being pathetic. Dan was most certainly not ‘needy’.

(But sometimes when Phil went away, went to see his lovely family in the pretty North, and Dan was left alone in London, he felt very needy and very alone and very rejected. So maybe a little. Maybe sometimes, a little needy. _It’s still not okay though. It’s still pathetic. It’s disgusting, revolting,_ unless Phil says he’s happy Dan called him and he’s looking forward to coming home.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if there are any important tags i've missed out, e.g. triggers!! thanks, hope this is decent.

Time kept happening, and Dan and Phil became ‘Dan & Phil’, and Japan happened, and TABINOF and TATINOF and a lot of proper grown-up discussions. They talked, they fought, they made-up. Plans were made and work was done. They slept together, and they actually slept together.

After some Talks and some Bad Times On Tour, Dan decided to see a therapist. By that time multiple doctors had told him that they thought he was depressed, so he didn’t feel _too_ needy when he went to see the first one. But he still felt a bit of it, thought _I do not need to be here_ , thought _if I am seeking help I have a problem and if I have a problem I am weak and faulty_.

Having Phil to come home and rant to helped, but ultimately it was Dan who put in the real hard work there. (Sometimes he thought he was only able to be strong and push himself because he knew Phil was waiting for him with a hug if Dan wanted one and a hot drink.)

When he’d found a therapist he liked and thought he could learn to trust, and after the initial barrage of History and Symptoms that he’d been carrying with him all his life had been let out in that safe small room to her, and after he’d talked to her about medication and then started taking it – then, finally, the other stuff started getting talked about.

He came in with a Big Problem (Depression), but had found himself talking about little thoughts and feelings more often than he’d thought he would.  
When he apologised for wasting her time, she said “this time is yours”.  
When he said he still felt bad for rambling, she said “well, maybe these thoughts are more important than you might think. Shall we see where they go?”  
They always led to something important.

 

As Dan got more and more comfortable rambling to her about whatever he’d been thinking about, he found himself one day describing The Dream.

“I mean, I think it’s just a stress dream. You know, like how people dream about losing their teeth or – or those exam dreams where you’re taking an exam and you don’t know anything. Like, if my hands are literally flying off it’s kinda – I mean, it’s pretty obvious that it’s my brain being like ‘hey, stop writing! Stop working!’ Maybe, I mean, what do you think?”

She said that what he thought his dreams meant were probably what they meant.

He laughed and said “I think they mean I want Phil to literally take my hands away, sometimes.”

She said, _hm?_

“Not like, I don’t like, want him to literally cut my – like, I’m not gonna cut my hands off and give them to him in a box or something, Jesus, just – just. He – I like it when he’s – maybe it’s not so specific, maybe it’d be anyone I trust. Sometimes I… Sometimes Phil puts his hand on the back of my neck and I feel, like, _instantly_ calm. Is that – that’s weird, right?”

She said “it doesn’t sound weird at all. Why do you think that’s weird?”

“Because, because I. I shouldn’t, _like_ it that much. You know?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“It’s, it’s weird. It’s… I shouldn’t… Sometimes I think I need Phil too much. Like, I rely on him too much, you know? It’s, I mean, we’ve kinda built a brand around being co-dependant.” He laughed and looked at his hands where they were settling on his lap after being thrown around wildly all session. “I, I really love Phil. And I think I – I already ask a lot from him. So I can’t. Like. So, Phil knows I’m weird and he’s, like, incredibly weird, and that’s good, but. But this is different weird.”

“Wanting him to, what -?”

“ – Just, take care of me I guess – “

“ – Okay, wanting him to take care of you sometimes is ‘different weird’? I just want to make sure I’m understanding.”

“I – yeah. I’m. I’m 25, I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want…”

And then there was a silence when Dan started crying and his lovely therapist handed him tissues and reassured him that it was okay, it was healthy, this was his time, no rush. “Let yourself feel this.”

 

So, basically, he talked about being a closet submissive with his therapist. Which was great, because it meant he felt like he was starting to understand it. After looking through his history and family in a safe place with her, he finally felt able to go on the Internet search/binge he’d been keeping himself from for years. He spent days on-off searching Wikipedia and google and YouTube, with healthily timed breaks because now he understood how important rest and sleep were to his mental health. Dan read countless studies and articles online about BDSM and all things related. He learned about theories as to what causes sexual deviancy in individuals, studies looking at the correlation between mental health issues and BDSM, and possible causes for that. He looked at graphs and read reddit threats and thought about how the things he was learning related to himself. He started to get brave, to test the waters a little.

He began joking about the things he read about (daddy kinks, choking kinks), analysing his audience’s reactions to his tweets and comments in gaming videos. When he jerked off he let himself fantasise a little more (did _this_ make him harder? Did he leak precum when he imagined _this_ happening to him? Was he honestly interesting in yiffing, or petplay?).

Dan loves learning.

Dan loves learning because he only lets himself talk about important things if he thinks he’s informed enough to have an opinion that he can back up, an opinion that won’t change too easily. If Dan could understand and accept this part of himself, maybe, one day, he could present the argument to Phil.

Dan watched Phil’s reactions to the kink tweets and jokes most of all. Phil seemed… exasperated? A bit confused, maybe? He didn’t seem seriously grossed out, which was reassuring.

Dan thought that if he fully knew exactly what he wanted and the reasons why he wanted what he wanted, he could work with Phil being confused. He could sit Phil down and talk him through his thoughts – provide quotes from the studies, make links to his past experiences. He could treat it like one of their practise sessions for presenting ideas to potential sponsors.

If Dan understood it fully, maybe he could make Phil understand it too, and if Phil understood it maybe he’d become comfortable with slapping Dan’s face and being called Daddy. Maybe one day Dan would get to find out if having his wrists tied up was as nice as having them held. Maybe.

So Dan thought, _did being pushed around when I was bullied cause me to develop a pain-kink as a way to get pleasure instead of hurt?_  
And, _is wanting to be degraded in a sexual setting a kind of externalising of my self-hatred (caused by depression which is in turn caused by neurochemicals and nature/nurture and, …), with the aftercare becoming a way to prove those thoughts wrong and to be shown how loved I really am?_  
And Dan thought, _I am getting a headache.  
_ And, _Phil looks especially nice today_.

And he dreamed of Phil catching his hands while they flew away from his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this fic....... making any sense????


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains references to That Week In March, so if discussions of medication withdrawal upset you let me know and i can send you a version of this chapter without that! it's pretty vague, but it's there. thought i'd mention it.  
> weird temporary shift to present tense in this chapter because........... it felt right??  
> thank you SO MUCH to anyone who's left kudos/a comment/bookmarked this mess!! aaaaaa ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

The idea is a good one. They’ve rested and recuperated for long enough, and the ideas they have for their next tour are too exciting to ignore. ‘Interactive Introverts’ quickly goes from being an idea murmured thoughtlessly during a bedtime chat (sleepy face-to-face faces on pillows, eyes closing), to a capital-P Project.

They’ve only very recently moved and that was stressful enough. Adding a huge Project like this onto the constant noise in Dan’s brain is a risk, and they both know it.

But he’s slowly coming off his medication.

Taking the pills every morning had become a sure-fire daily spike of anxiety ever since That Week In March, starting a spiral of thoughts about reliance and memories of one of the most woozy, painful weeks of his life every time he swallowed one.

After explaining his thought process (what good was trading depression for constant hypervigilance about the state of his nausea levels and looking for symptoms of toxicity, the anxiety of checking he always has enough packets left, mixed with the curiosity, the wonder if he could be better without them) his therapist gave her approval and sent him on to his psychiatrist. They’d created a plan to ween him off the Citalopram safely and slowly, and he’s so nearly off it completely now. He’s exercising more than he ever has before, and he’s drinking water (constantly, it feels like) and eating healthier and getting a nice amount of sleep most nights. He’s seeing his therapist regularly and his psychiatrist once a month. It’s going really well.

He and Phil are more in love with each other than they’ve ever been – real _love_ , not frantic honeymoon-phase bliss à la 2009, or the tentativeness of 2014.

Dan still has the occasional dip, ‘low days’, but now seems as good a time as any.

Try new things, seize the day, no time like the present.

So it’s planning and hiring and mind-mapping and meetings, all while providing content and occasionally being ill and, oh, yeah, occasionally working with a goddamned Prince of England.

So it’s sleeping a little less sometimes than he knows he should. It’s feeling a little more tired sometimes and making stupid mistakes when he talks sometimes. The filter between his brain and his mouth gets thinner when he’s busy thinking so much.

It’s gonna be worth it.

 

Phil tells Dan how proud he is of him and the electric spark of pure pleasure runs down Dan’s spine. Quick treacle, warm, gooey. He thinks, _soon. Maybe I’ll talk to him about that soon._

It turns out all the rehearsals Dan’s had with himself playing the roles of both Dan and Phil – “Dan, you have to admit it’s really weird. Well, no, not really at all. If you think of it as a coping mechanism it makes perfect sense. Dan, you’re disgusting. I’m breaking up with you. I shall move out immediately. Phil, that’s an over-reaction! I can never mention it again, we can pretend I never said anything, at least let me show you the Powerpoint!” etc. etc. until the bathwater ran cold or Dan’s legs got tired from pacing through imaginary conflicts - were entirely pointless.

It all comes out when Dan’s brain is at its least capable of ‘lawyer-mode’.

Dan is balls-deep in Phil’s ass when he moans “Phil, fuck, wanna be your sub”.

After a moment of awkwardly still silence and an “um”, there’s a lot of laughter from both parties (which feels very odd when they’re still attached below the waist), some very weak jokes about a popular sandwich shop from Phil, and eventually naked cuddles while they chat.

Dan wakes up the next morning still naked, cuddled up on Phil’s chest, tangled in their messy sheets. All in all, he thinks, it had gone unreasonably perfectly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (this chapter includes a discussion of age gaps and taking advantage of admiration)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!! you may have noticed, the plan is now to have 6 chapters! the next two will fiiiiinally include The Adult Time (although, i'm not sure how i'm gonna write it if i can't even type the word "sex" without blushing lol).  
> as always, thanks for the kudos!!!! ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable hurting you. Even with, like, your consent and stuff. It still feels…” Phil winced and looked away from him, “abusive? Almost? I know it’s not.”

“That’s okay.” Dan smiled reassuringly at the miracle sat next to him on their sofa, and then couldn’t stop smiling. Maybe he was a bit gooey and overly-adoring today, but in his glasses, wearing black, and with his hair pushed back, Dan thought he would be utterly content even if the only physical contact he ever got to have with Phil was the occasional handshake. He was stunning. “Everyone has limits. I mean, we’re not going to be perfectly compatible in every single way ever. It’s fine.”

(It was good to be able to say that without feeling like if they weren’t perfectly compatible Phil would inevitably eventually leave him. Thanks therapist, thanks time and experience!)

“Mm.” Coffee sip. A look at the TV. “How do you know what you think you’ll like?”

“I guess, I just think about it?” Dan started playing with his lips carelessly until Phil took his hand in his and pulled it away.

“Don’t, they’re chapping again.”

Dan looked at Phil and wondered if he knew how much he was appreciated and loved. Did Dan tell him often enough? Their hands were still together, now sitting on the cushion between them, fingers loosely twined between each other’s own. “Like that.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a feeling, I guess, sometimes. Like… when you move parts of my body, it just feels _good_. Does that make sense?”

Phil watched him and hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I do get things like that. Let me think… “ He put his coffee cup on the sofa-arm next to him. “Okay, so, when you look at me sometimes,” here Phil looked away and down, starting to go a bit pink, “and your eyes go all round and trusting, I like that? Is that a ‘dominant’ thing?”

 

* * *

 

 

Phil heard Dan gasp a little, he couldn’t look up. Why did this feel like an exam? _He_ had been the one to insist they talked this out before trying anything. Dan had been all up for them “just going for it”, “seeing what they liked”. But it’s easy for him to say that, isn’t it? It isn’t his fault if it goes wrong. Phil pictured Dan crying, Dan looking at him and crying and in pain, and… it wasn’t an option. If they were going to do anything… weird, Phil needed to know the rules first. What did Dan want? What could Phil give?

He wasn’t the biggest fan of ‘digging deep into his psyche’. That was more Dan’s area of expertise, and besides, it always left Phil feeling anxious when he thought too deeply.

He was feeling anxious now. Would he say something weird and make Dan feel bad for what he wanted? What if Phil found out a secret kink buried deep in his own subconscious which was so creepy and awful that even Dan couldn’t accept it (accept him)? What if -?

“Oh God that’s hot. Okay, okay, give me a second.”

Phil finally looked over at Dan to see him looking at the ceiling, definitely red around the ears.

It was okay. It was Dan, of course he would accept him. He always did.

 

Phil wasn’t afraid to admit that he could be a little stubborn sometimes. So, when he decided he needed to do research, no amount of Dan’s wheedling and cooing could pull him into anything kinky until Phil felt like a goddamn expert.

It had been weeks of Phil spending his evenings in bed scrolling through websites and forums on his laptop, Dan sulking next to him. “Look, we know I’ll tell you to stop if I need to, and we’re hardly going for suspension bondage, are we? Can we at least make out, fucking hell, I wouldn’t’ve – “

“ – Dan, I just.” Dan fell silent. Phil said, quietly and clearly, “I need to know we’ll both be okay. You know I get nervous. Can you at least let me learn until I don’t feel so scared to touch you?”

Dan slowly sat up, facing Phil, and gently ran a finger over the furrows between Phil’s eyebrows. “Sorry. I don’t know why… I mean, I researched for months before I even thought about talking to you about this stuff. I think, just, now that I’ve told you and you’re up for it, some stuff… I’m too excited. And yeah, I’m not being fair. Sorry.” He nuzzled into Phil’s neck and kissed the skin there apologetically.

“Oh. Okay, yeah, I understand.” Phil draped an arm around Dan. Soft and warm curves.

They sat quietly together for a bit, Phil’s laptop whirring a little where it sat on his legs.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Mm?”

“There’s stuff that I do… like. Want? With you, I mean. And it makes me… ” Phil sighed a little. Dan just stayed silent and looked up at him from his makeshift pillow (Phil’s shoulder). “In 2009… when you stepped off the train and you were so tiny. And you looked at me like… I don’t know. You were so young and… you needed me so badly. And that scared me. Because, I felt like a creep Dan. You were eighteen and I was thinking about fucking you and petting your hair and stuff and God I felt like such a… a _pervert_.” Phil stopped talking and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

Dan sat up a bit so that Phil could cross his legs and hunch over a little, and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Phil, you know… I wanted you so much? And we were falling in love. You were only 4 years older than me.”

“You were a fanboy Dan, sorry, but you were, and I took advantage of you.”

Dan froze. “No. No, holy shit Phil, how long have you thought that?” Phil shrugged. “Jesus Phil, I was eighteen. I was 100% legal and the ‘fanboy’ shit? I grew out of that pretty fucking quickly after we met. Definitely before we did anything PG-13.”

“It’s just, with all of this… you trust me so much. I… God, if I hurt you I don’t know what I would – “

“ – Stop, stop stop stop. You’re not going to hurt me. You would tell me if you didn’t like anything we tried yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Well, me too. I mean, God, Phil,” he chuckled, “have you met me? I’m not exactly opposed to whining at you.”

“Don’t – you wouldn’t be – “

“ - Sorry, I know. I know I wouldn’t be. My point is, we’re both adults. We have a healthy, communicative relationship that we’ve fucking worked hard for. If it makes you feel better, we can plan anything out beforehand, together, and we can talk about it after. You can make spreadsheets if you like, keep a folder of what gets us both off –“

“ – Shut up!” Now Phil was laughing again, and looking into Dan’s eyes. “I hate you so much Howell.”

“Hate you too.” Dan kissed his nose. “But seriously, take as long as you need. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll still be here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mind the change of rating!! also please don't judge me for this i am a fragile creature  
> tw// death by fire in the first section (of a sim, not a real person, but still) :(

Phil used to play the Sims a lot in 2012. Dan was rejecting any form of care – from himself and from Phil. So Phil played the Sims.

Days when Dan would stay in bed and shout at Phil if he tried to drag him out for food, Phil would retreat to their office. In the game, he could make sure all his characters were well fed.

Phil was the most benevolent Sims God ever, if he did say so himself, which he did. He never let a bar drop past yellow into red. He made sure his Sims had sex frequently, and were happy, and had a good social life. They lived in luxury, windows all over their house, light everywhere.

The Oven Incident hit him pretty hard. He tried to save Roberta. He couldn’t. And when she burnt up, for the first time in a long time Phil let himself cry.

Dan had gone from his sweet, needy, attention-starved boy, to the opposite. He was so thin and clearly very sad, huddled in his airless room under his grey blanket as if he was trying to fade away from the world. Like this, Phil didn’t know how to care for him. It ate him up inside.

 

* * *

 

 

Dan was worlds better now, but seeing him lying motionless on the grey blocks next to his piano still sent a shiver of wrongness down Phil’s spine. He sat down cross-legged next to Dan and soothingly ran his hand up and down the limp arm hanging in front of him. Dan’s eyes gradually focused and he hummed quietly, acknowledging Phil's care.

“Bad day?” Phil murmured.

“Mm. Not… _awful_ , just. Y’know. Grey.” Dan’s words were mumbled and distorted by the press of his face onto the rough material under him. “’M okay really.”

“Yeah.” 

The past couple days had been tiring for Dan. Nothing specific had happened, but Christmas was looming on the horizon and that was always a bit difficult for him.

Phil’s hand swooped lower on it’s next descent and loosely held Dan’s wrist. “You want to do something?”

Dan was quiet for a moment, considering. Over the past month Dan and Phil had started incorporating some of That Stuff into their sex life, experimenting and playing. It was fun. He sighed. “Can’t. Safe, sane, consensual. I’m not… _100%_ right now, wouldn’t be right.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, sorry, I didn’t think.” Phil moved his hand so it gently clasped Dan’s own. “When you’re feeling a bit better?”

Dan managed a small smile. “Yeah. Shouldn’t last much longer now.”

“I’ll make you a tea. What do you want for dinner?” Phil kissed Dan’s curls and stood up to head to the kitchen.

“Ummm…. Surprise me? And, can you get me a glass of water? Thanks.”

 

 

As predicted, after a few more days of Dan pushing himself to do yoga, drink water, be productive, with Phil hovering around ready to support him if he tipped too far into the low, the grey tint over his life started to lessen. A few more days and Dan was back to screeching in gaming videos, fully enjoying music again, laughing with his whole body.

It was during dinner one evening that Dan remembered what Phil had said before – “you asked if I wanted to do something last week, did you have something specific in mind?”

“Mm, I – “ Phil swallowed his mouthful and choked a little. Dan sighed fake-exasperatedly and patted his back.

“Slow down old man, no rush.”

“Oi. Yeah, sorry for suggesting that when you weren’t all there, that was – “

“ – No, don’t be sorry. You were trying to cheer me up, yeah?”

“Yeah, but, I mean, it’s good that you stopped it.” Dan nodded and pushed Phil’s glass towards him; Phil took it and drank gratefully.

“Yeah, probably. But yeah, we’re just starting all this. Of course we’re not, like, perfect at knowing when we can do stuff yet.”

“We’ll get there.”

Dan smiled at how sure Phil sounded. “Wow, you’ve really taken to all this, haven’t you?”

Phil went a little pink but still held his eye contact with him, “I mean, yeah. It’s, it’s kind of – perfect? I get to make you feel good, and the sex is…. _Wow_.”

They both grinned a little smugly, remembering the last time they’d had sex. It had involved tying Dan’s hands above his head with a pillow case (after Phil had watched a video demonstration at least ten times, researched the dangers of too-tight wrist ties, talked it through thoroughly with Dan, and checked that they both knew the traffic light system and how to non-verbally safeword, just in case). Dan had screamed Phil’s name when he came which had made Phil laugh and moan at the same time, quickly followed by his own orgasm (still laughing breathlessly). Of course, they had taken the plunge and ordered (perfectly and extensively reviewed) handcuffs together the next morning.

Phil cleared his throat, definitely pink now. “So, you were saying? Were you saying something?”

“Uhhh… oh! Yeah! Did you have a plan, like, something you wanted to try?”

If Phil didn’t stop blushing soon he was going to pass out or something, surely. “Um, yeah, I – yeah, I have something.” They had started to be less nervous about bringing ideas up to each other, but over the dinner table under the bright kitchen light, he suddenly felt a little exposed and vulnerable. “Do you want a tea? Coffee? I want coffee.” He stood up and swiftly carried his plate and glass to the dishwasher, studiously avoiding catching Dan’s eyes.

“Phil. _Phil_.” Dan got up and wrapped his arms around Phil’s back once he was standing in front of the kettle, leaning on the counter. “Only if you want to tell me, yeah? I’m never going to _make_ you tell me something, and you know I’m never going to, like, be disgusted or whatever, right? I’ll never get angry at you for something you find hot.” He kissed the nape of Phil’s neck.

Phil sighed and turned around, burrowing himself into Dan's jumper. “I know. Just,” he mumbled into the fabric, “can we talk about it later? Like, in bed?”

“Of course. Whenever you’re comfortable love.” Dan kissed Phil’s head and squeezed him tighter before letting go. “So, ‘Santa Clarita’?”

 

 

It was easier to talk like this. Huddled in the dark, warm and cosy under the covers with the man he loved, in the moon room where the blinds were never opened, Phil felt free from the pressure of… Outside. This room was theirs. This bed was theirs and theirs alone.

Lying on their sides and watching each other silently, soft toothpaste-y breaths hitting each other’s faces. Phil took his glasses off when the ache of them digging into the side of his face became too much, put them on the bedside table behind him, and turned back to Dan. His face was sleepy and soft, warm brown eyes awake and accepting and focused on Phil.

So he said, “Yeah, so, I have a thing. An idea, I guess.” Dan’s response was an encouraging ‘hm?’ “Yeah. Um,” Phil shifted his arm to fold under his pillow, “I had this daydream, the day after we bought the cuffs? I – I pictured you in them. I mean, of course. But, like, all day?”

“All _day_?”

“Yeah.” Phil bit his lip, Dan watched his lips go red under the pressure of his teeth. “Like, so I could. Feed you and take care of you.” His already hushed voice quietened down to almost nothing. Phil finally broke their eye contact, looking away when he said “control you, I guess?”

“Wow” Dan breathed. By this point both of them were flushed, pupils dilated. He cleared his throat. “What would we do all day?”

Phil carefully reached forward and started stroking across Dan’s bare chest, Dan’s breath hitching every time one of Phil’s fingers brushed over a nipple. Phil shifted a little closer to him. “I’d wake you up in the morning, check you’re still up for it, safewords and stuff. Then, maybe roll you onto your stomach. Get you all relaxed and hazy-eyed, like you are now.” He gently pinched one of Dan’s nipples, making him moan a little. Phil's voice had deepened considerably when he continued," then I’d cuff you – arms behind your back, make you really fucking helpless.”

“Oh God, Phil” Dan reached out to touch Phil’s cock over his Angry Bird pyjama bottoms. Phil’s hips jerked forward into Dan’s touch and he tried to simultaneously groan and lean in to kiss Dan, resulting in them spectacularly bashing teeth. Both recoiled. “Jesus fuck! Ouch!”

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” Phil started to sit up, but Dan reached one arm up to him and pulled him into a hug, still tenderly feeling his mouth with his other hand.

“I’m fine, I’m really fine, it’s okay. Just, Jesus, ouch.”

“Sorry Bear, sorry. No glasses.” Phil carefully, softly kissed Dan, his heart rate steadily settling down again.

“Mm, ok, ok,” Dan pulled back from the kiss and pushed Phil over so he was lying flat against the bed. He kissed him again, then tugged at the waistband of Phil’s pyjamas and made a noise like “hm?” When Phil smiled up at him and nodded Dan pulled them down and off his legs, flung into the dark void of the bedroom immediately after.

Phil had gone a bit soft what with all the toothy-headbutting drama but as Dan rested his face on his hip and started to kiss and stroke Phil’s cock, he soon started thickening up again. He reached a hand down and stroked through Dan’s lovely curls. “Mm, nice, thanks.”

Dan laughed fondly (which felt a bit ticklish and strange against his cock), then lifted his head a little to ask, “so, what would you do next? You’ve got me all cuffed and needy. I assume we’re not just going to lie around watching Netflix in bed all day.”

“Ha, no, um – “ Phil paused to moan and grip Dan’s hair a little tighter at the sudden feeling of his warm, wet mouth over the head of his dick. A small strand of drool escaped Dan’s mouth and ran down his cock, pooling in Phil’s pubes. “God you’re so good at this, okay, let me think. So, so – Jesus Dan – okay. Okay, you’d need breakfast, right? Big day?”

Dan pulled off before he could choke laughing around cock. “Oh my God, you _do_ have a fucking cereal fetish! I _knew_ you liked it more than normal people –“

Phil sighed, rolled his eyes a little, and grabbed the back of Dan’s neck. Instantly Dan went quiet and soft and returned to his work. Phil’s eyes dilated and his voice deepened, “As I was saying – breakfast. I’ll choose what you eat, make it for you, feed it to you. You can just sit pretty with your hands behind your back, like a good boy.” Phil was getting into the zone now, his blush clearing. It was easier to not be self-conscious about acting like this when Dan responded so beautifully to it. With one hand still on the back of Dan’s neck, guiding rather than gripping now, Phil used his other hand to brush over his boy’s face – over his fluttering, shut eyelids, his hollowed cheeks, the bridge of his nose. Phil rested against his pillow, looked up at the ceiling, and let himself say whatever he wanted, safe in the knowledge that Dan would have to just listen, no judgements. For now, at least.

“I’ll guide you around all day. Maybe I’ll dress you, maybe not. You can kneel on the office floor while I edit, maybe even suck me off while I do.” His voice went softer as he reassured Dan, “I’d give you keys or something of course, a way to tell me to stop.”

Dan lifted his head up and Phil let him, moving his hands so they cradled his face. “Would you fuck me?” His voice was breathless, slightly slurred already, and when Phil looked down into his eyes they were unfocused and heavy lidded.

“If you wanted me to, yeah love. Yeah, I’d lay you out on our bed and fuck you.”

Dan’s hips twitched into the sheets. “ _Oh_.” He dove back onto Phil’s cock so suddenly and desperately that Phil barely had time to push his hands into Dan’s hair before he was coming, images of wrists in leather and Dan’s blushing face flashing through his imagination as he did.

 

 

After Dan had been cuddled up, messily and urgently jerked off, then cleaned up; after Dan and Phil had both come down and held each other a little; after Dan had kissed his forehead and laughed a little, fondly, he said “Phil. _Phil_ , you genius, we are _definitely_ doing that.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains sex which isn't waterboarding, but it's close? dan's head never goes under the water, he can breath easily the entire time, don't worry <3  
> there's also eating and being fed throughout this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hbd dan, i guess?? finishing this today was a coincidence, i swear!!  
> it's so weird that this is finished now. wow.  
> thank you so much to everyone who has read this, given kudos, bookmarked it, and/or commented. thank you thank you thank you. i hope you like this final chapter!!  
> wow! i can't believe it's over. i hope the time shifts in this chapter make sense!!

_The water was still slightly warm under Dan’s face._ _Every time he was pushed forwards far enough that the tip of his nose broke its surface the water split into ripples and waves, moving away from his touch in circles. The bubbles had dissolved now, but they’d left a scent of cinnamon and something citrus-y._

 

* * *

 

 

Christmas came and went in a flurry of family meals, texts to Phil, walks on crunchy frost-tipped foliage with Colin, etc, etc. Dan’s breath left his mouth in gasps of white air, he huddled into his coat. There were family meals with cutlery that tasted wrong, somehow more metallic than their cutlery at home.

New Years Eve and New Years Day passed with friends in London. Dan watched the TV count down and thought about time on fast forward, people celebrating their own decaying. How long did he have left? On New Years Eve’s Dan was always reminded that this could be his last year. He had no way of knowing. But Phil turned to him at midnight with a smile so bright even the fear of death couldn’t match up. Their New Year kiss was perfect and soft and lasted longer than a minute – the first minute of 2018, spent kissing.

Phil’s birthday-week was next. Watching Phil be celebrated by all the people who loved him, Dan felt every wave of love wash over himself too – caught in the aftershocks of Phil’s happiness. When Phil went to see his family, Dan went with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Dan woke up slowly, rubbing his face into the pillow under his head, his hands stroking over the bed sheets. Everything felt soft. When Dan blinked his eyes open he watched particles of dust swimming in the air, illuminated by a stream of warm sunlight. He had fallen asleep thinking about today, so when he woke up the date was the first fully formed thought that met him.

Phil was already in the kitchen. Dan could hear him cluttering about and singing to himself. They had discussed this though. Over the past two and a half months, every detail of today had been planned and debated, imagined and prepared. So, Dan knew not to sit up. _If you wake up before I get back in the room, I want you to stay laying down. I won’t be too long._

Dan closed his eyes again and let himself think about what would finally, finally happen today. A tingle of anticipation, or arousal, sparkled in the base of his spine.

He must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was the smell of coffee and the sound of padded footsteps, followed by the dip of the bed as Phil sat down. Something – a tray – was placed onto the bed in front of Phil’s crossed legs with a faint chime of glasses being jostled together, then a hand dragged through Dan’s hair.

“Dan, love?”

Dan managed a muffled ‘hmph’ in response, opening his eyes to see Phil’s looking down at him.

“Hey. Good morning, sit up for me now.”

Dan sat up for Phil. Phil was already dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, contacts in and even socks on. While he guided Dan to shuffle forward so that he could sit behind him, legs bracketing Dan’s own crossed legs, he was careful not to tip anything on the tray over. When they were settled he pulled it towards them, and then handed Dan his card.

It was store bought. Dan wondered if Phil had done that for him himself. The thought of Phil going into a store, in public, looking through that section, choosing a card for Dan, taking it to the till. Had Phil looked around fearfully, dreading the high-pitched cry of “oh my God, is it actually you?” that so often found them? Had Phil smiled at the cashier, exchanged a knowing nod?

It wasn’t remarkable on its own – A5, pink, a red heart with a cartoon face and white gloves, smiling, a speech bubble, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” – but everything it meant made Dan’s eyes suddenly a little prickly and wet.

“Do you like it? I know it’s not very funny, or at all really, but it was his little tap shoes that did it. I just thought, he looks so –“

Dan shifted around in Phil’s arms only enough so that he could tilt his head back and kiss him. The angle was off and he ended up kissing more of Phil’s chin than his mouth, but Phil didn’t seem to mind. He blushed and kissed Dan fully, softly, lovingly. It was Valentine’s Day and Phil had bought Dan a card. They were both beaming and rosy-cheeked when they broke apart, Phil turning Dan back towards the tray so that he could start to feed him.

 

* * *

  

_The grip of Phil’s hands on the skin above Dan’s wrists was objectively tight, and surely with the force of his thrusts Dan’s shoulders must’ve been hurting. Every time Phil thrust forward, he pulled Dan’s arms back. The side of the bath tub was a constant pressure on Dan’s stomach. It must’ve been hurting, but Dan couldn’t feel it._

_He couldn’t feel his knees on the tile floor under them. He couldn’t feel Phil’s hips colliding with his ass, over and over again. He couldn’t feel the cold chill of being naked and wet, bent over the bath tub. The ache of arousal between his legs was a constant rush of warmth and pleasant denial – no pain, not anymore._

_There was only the gooey softness of everything. Phil’s voice lulled and ebbed in his ears, praises –_ “so perfect, everything I’ve ever wanted Dan, so _perfect_ Dan” _– sounding more like prayers in the echo-y room._

 

* * *

 

 

After breakfast had been eaten, and coffee and orange juice drunk, the tray of empty plates and cups and mugs was moved to the floor where it wouldn’t be in the way. Dan admired the way Phil’s arms tensed when he lifted the tray, the curve of his ass in his jeans when he bent slightly to put it down safely. Phil’s skin (face, neck, and hands) looked like it was porcelain under the bright mid-day sun that filled their room.

Already Dan felt slightly detached from his autonomy. While they had eaten – while Dan had been fed – Dan’s hands had rested on Phil’s thighs. They had stroked over the denim and lightly tapped to a tune in his head. It was the song Phil had been singing that morning.

His mind felt… quiet. Where it would normally be racing and scraping at his new-day early-morning calm, it was slow and gentle now. His thoughts moved like caramel, sticky sweet and dragging over surface-level thoughts.

Like how nice Phil looked.

 

* * *

  

The world was narrowed down now. Dan felt the comforting pressure of Phil sitting on the top of his thighs, keeping him grounded to the moment. He felt the ache, drag, and pull of Phil’s fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. The softness of the pillow under his face, the softness of the world through the light turned red-pink under his eyelids. Palms facing up by his hips, fingers grazing over Phil’s denim-covered knees. The room smelt of the coconut-scented moisturiser Phil was using to massage him and the Spring Leaves scent of their fabric conditioner.

Phil’s hands moved from Dan’s back to the top of his arms, then down until he was soothing circles into his palms. Dan was malleable and cared for.

The shift of Phil’s hips when he moved to pick up the handcuffs from their bedside table pressed Dan’s crotch into the mattress – but it was only a slightly heightened pleasure added onto the constant undercurrent of tingling bliss which had been travelling through his veins and settling just above his cock since he’d woken up.

Phil’s voice was gravelly and deep when he asked, “you ready love?”

All Dan could manage was a nod and a murmur.

Phil sat back a little. “Give me a colour Dan. Yeah?”

It took effort to formulate the answer, to convert the bliss Dan was feeling into the correct word, but after a moment he was able to tell Phil clearly and steadily “green. Definitely.”

He felt leather circle his wrists.

 

* * *

 

 

Dan spent the day being held and coddled by Phil. While they watched a movie on the sofa, Dan was sat in Phil’s lap, wrapped in his fluffy grey blanket and Phil’s arms. Occasionally Phil would kiss the top of his forehead. Dan wasn’t asked once what he wanted to watch. It wasn’t his place to do that – Dan was meant to be cuddled by Phil, cute and happy, not to offer opinions or demands. Phil’s cock under his ass was semi-hard, like his own, and Dan felt comforted in the knowledge that he was making Phil feel the same warm pleasure that Phil was giving him. It wasn’t Dan’s place to initiate anything sexual – if Phil wanted anything more than Dan’s naked body resting on him, he would have told him. So Dan relaxed and focused on the vulnerability of being naked with his arms cuffed behind him, the only thing keeping the blanket covering him being Phil’s arms hugging it to Dan.

 

* * *

 

Later, Phil stayed true to his plan of editing in the office with Dan at his feet. Cross-legged, sitting adjacent to Phil, carpet under him and blanket resting over his legs, Dan spent the afternoon watching Phil work. On his rolling chair at the desk Phil was so tall over Dan. Looking up at him felt soothing. It reminded Dan how very small he was, how much he needed Phil to look after him. Occasionally Phil would check on him, asking for his colour or if he needed anything. When Dan replied “green” Phil would ruffle his hair and coo at how well he was doing, what a pretty boy he was, so well behaved. When Dan needed a bathroom break Phil stood him up, held him until the pins and needles stopped prickling his legs, and took the cuffs off. He sent Dan to go to the loo by himself. They had both agreed that they weren’t really into watersports, at least, not at the moment. Not for this scene. Dan returned from the toilet a little dizzy and confused. His hands felt weird, belonging only to him, and hung awkwardly by his sides. It was a relief to have Phil replace his handcuffs. 

Instead of directing Dan to sit back at his feet Phil stood up and guided Dan to the kitchen, one hand on the small of his back. His voice was calm, slow and gentle, “okay pet, we’re going to have lunch and then I’m giving you a bath.”

 

* * *

 

The air was colder in the bathroom than it had been in the office. Sitting on the cold tile floor as Phil filled up the tub – warm water, not hot enough to burn Dan, and a sparkly orange bathbomb – Dan shivered.

“Oh, cold, bear? Don’t worry, this’ll warm you up. Now stand up for me – careful, careful. Let’s brush these crumbs off you, no one wants crumby-water – “ lunch had been garlic bread, pasta, tomato sauce (all fed to Dan by Phil, of course) “- and your cuffs. Don’t whine sweetheart, we don’t want their chain rusting, do we? No, we’ll want to use these again.”

Even when technically he could’ve, mentally Dan couldn’t bring himself to move his arms once they were freed. The thought seemed impossible. After all, they weren’t _his_ arms anymore. For today, at least, Phil had taken over. They were Phil’s arms now, Dan was Phil’s Dan now.

The water was perfect. As soon as he was sat in it Dan could feel the warmth soothing his muscles. Aches were calmed, tension washed away. His body felt light and empty, weightless in the water.

Phil knelt next to the bath and rolled up his sleeves. Dan’s arms in the water ebbed uselessly next to him. Phil washed his body and his hair and his face, careful and gentle, murmuring things like “close your eyes for me now bear” and “beautiful boy, my beautiful boy”. When he said “Dan, hey, are you crying love?” suddenly Dan could feel that he was. With a gasp, leaning towards Phil’s body, into the arms that wrapped around him, Dan reassured Phil that he was just _so happy, love you, love you, love you_.

After what must have been at least half an hour of being washed and held, Phil drew back and stood up. His knees clicked as he stood, then walked to the nearby shower and turned it on, checking the temperature as he had with the bath, before returning to Dan. Dan felt clean and grateful, so grateful, looking up at his Phil with wide eyes and a smile. Phil guided Dan up, out of the bath, and into the shower.

“Sit down for me please, love. Is this temperature alright? Yes? Okay then, I need you to clean up for me, please.” He passed Dan the shower hose and warned him, softly, “if you’re standing up and you feel like you’re going to fall I need you to sit down and call for me, okay? When you’re done in the shower go back to the bath, you can use the taps to fix the water temperature if you want. Okay then, I’ll be back soon. Leave the door unlocked.”

While Dan cleaned himself in a haze (going through the motions, thinking more about the fact that this meant that, hopefully, Phil was going to fuck him) he could hear Phil clattering about somewhere. Mostly all he could hear was the empty hum in his head and the sound of rushing water, but below it all, he could pick out the sounds of Phil moving. It was endlessly comforting, to be able to hear Phil even if he couldn’t see him.

Once he was done and had cleaned up, Dan carefully, carefully turned the shower off, stepped out, and went back to sit in the bath. The water was quite cold now, so he pulled the plug, let a little water drain out, then replaced the plug and ran the hot tap until he was comfortable again. His hands moved on autopilot, only doing what Phil had told him to. He imagined Phil was guiding them, could almost feel the ghost of Phil’s fingertips around his forearms, moving his fingers. Dan thought that if he tried to move them of his own accord they probably wouldn’t listen to him anymore.

Dan was so hard. So, so hard. He sat in the warm water and watched his cock bobbing between his thighs, red and stiff. It seemed disconnected from Dan somehow, entirely unimportant. Dan felt blanketed under a white blank buzz of empty-brain reliance.

Phil stepped back in to the bathroom. Immediately Dan’s eyes were glued to his every move, staring up at him. The light behind Phil’s head looked like a halo.

Phil smiled down at him.

He held Dan, lightly pulling him to stand up, to get out of the water. Once Dan was standing, dripping water onto the tiles under them, Phil turned him around. Dan heard movement and seconds later Phil was carefully drying off his arms with a towel, before dropping the towel and picking up something, a quiet metallic sound. Dan felt the familiar cuffs settle around his wrists – the click of them shutting erased all thoughts in Dan’s mind. All he could hear was the sound of his breathing, the sound of Phil’s breathing, the last drip of water from the tap.

Phil kissed the back of Dan’s neck. “Tell me your safewords”, he murmured against the skin there.

“Red to stop, yellow to slow down.” Dan’s voice was raspy with disuse.

“Good. And what colour are you now?”

“Green.” The answer was immediate. Phil didn’t reply though, so Dan checked in with himself more consciously. He was hard as fuck. His knees were trembling, weak. His breath came hard and fast. “Green, Phil. Green, green, _green_ –“

“Okay, okay. Stop talking. I’m going to try something and I need you to trust me, Dan. I promise I won’t hurt you. Do you trust me?”

Dan stared at the tile of the wall in front of him. It looked like an endless grid, light reflecting off the water of the bath dancing across it. He wished he could see Phil’s face, he sounded… not scared, but maybe nervous, a little. Dan made his voice sound as reassuring as he could: “I trust you, Phil.”

It must have been enough, because Dan then felt Phil’s hands on his shoulders, their pressure urging him to fall to his knees. Phil manhandled him, bending him over the bathtub, ensuring that his face was over the water and his stomach cushioned the side of the tub. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it didn’t hurt. Not yet, at least.

Phil sat back and sighed, traced Dan’s palms with his fingertips. He pulled down the zipper on his jeans.

The water was still slightly warm under Dan’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

Phil came, Dan came.

 

* * *

  

Dan felt naked and blissful. The world was a haze of: Phil removing the handcuffs; Phil’s arms around his waist, guiding his shaky legs; the softness of their bed as he collapsed into it; the feeling of their blanket under him and he curled up, stretched out like a cat, carefully tested the skin around his wrists – a little red, no pain yet. He sighed peacefully and closed his eyelids. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of Phil undressing (he had fucked Dan with his jeans and boxers around his knees, pulled them back up when he was done), and then there was the slight tilt of the bed as Phil joined him.

Next was the feeling of fingertips running over his arms. Tiny sparks of electricity seemed to follow the barely-there touch. Dan saw the sparks behind his eyes.

Phil whispered “So good Dan, you’re so good for me. Did so well all day. Love you so much Dan, such a good boy.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You want to sit up now, yeah? Drink some water?” Experience from the past few months had taught them both that the best way for Phil to bring Dan back to independence and real life was by phrasing every suggestion as a question.

Dan made an effort to look into Phil’s eyes and say in as clear and stable a voice as he could currently manage, “yeah, okay.”

Phil sat up and waited for Dan to push himself into sitting too; he didn’t help him, but he kept his eyes on Dan’s shaky arms, ready to catch him if they slipped. He must have been preparing for this while Dan was showering because he only had to lean over a little to collect two large glasses of water from the bedside table. He handed one to Dan, waiting until his still-weakened trembling hands had both circled around the glass before he let go.

They both sipped their water next to each other, naked and in silence, until most of their water was gone. It took maybe ten minutes – experience had also taught them that downing water after sex, tempting as it was, would inevitably just make them feel a bit nauseous. Focusing on the task of lifting the glass, the feeling of swallowing cool water, noticing as his hands became less shaky via the calming of the surface of his water, Dan started to feel his thoughts rearrange themselves into their usual patterns. It felt like waking up.

The next step to checking if Dan was coming out of it, if _Phil_ was coming out of it, was tentative separation. So Phil turned to Dan, kissed his forehead, and said carefully “I’m going to go get us a snack, okay? What would you like?”

Dan found it not too scary a thought and even managed to reply with a joke about Phil being enough of a snacc himself, and could they have cereal? But none of Dan’s cereal for Phil, he had to use his own. It was an answer that clearly reassured Phil as he left the room smiling.

Once he was alone Dan took stock of himself. His entire body ached in a way that was satisfied and vaguely present, a reminder that the events of the day had actually happened, somehow, magically. Dan was tired and hungry and _happy_ ; happiness in its purest form, closer to calm than euphoria, although there were still echoes of that. Dan shifted his legs off the side of the bed and waited for his slow blood to reorganise itself around his body so that when he stood up he wouldn’t feel dizzy, and then took his and Phil’s empty water glasses and went to refill them in the bathroom sink. There was water all over the floor in there and the bathtub was still two thirds full. Ah well, that could wait.

On the way back to their bedroom he ran into Phil in the hallway. They smiled at each other and got back into bed without talking, passing each other their respective water and cereal once they were comfortably under the covers.

“So, that was good?” Phil sounded like Dan felt – content, sleepy, and satisfied, with a hint of relief that the day had gone so well.

Dan almost laughed out of sheer love. Through a smile so huge that he could feel his face aching he told Phil, “yeah, it was okay. God, Phil… Perfect.”

 

* * *

  

Later, all their limbs cuddled up and entwined under their cosy blanket in the dark, Dan and Phil held each other as they fell asleep together. Phil shook himself awake a little, suddenly, to say “you’re okay to go to sleep, yeah? You’re 100% back?” His concern was obvious and loving. The bed was warm and soft and smelled of their shared body wash from having showered together after their cereal. Dan felt his wet hair dampening the pillow under his head and he felt pure love, love and affection so strong that he _felt_ it in his chest.

“I’m back Phil.” He had to clear his throat a little. “You are too, right?”

Phil hmm-ed in a way that meant ‘yes’ and closed his eyes again, a tiny smile on his face. Dan zoned in on that tiny smile. It was probably the endorphins or something but, in that moment, Dan thought it was the most beautiful Phil had ever looked.

Despite his eyes falling shut and his brain hovering on the brink of sleep Dan thought that he hadn’t felt this _present_ in his life in a while.

He held out his hand and brought it down to cradle Phil’s face. Phil fluttered his eyes open enough to make out Dan’s smile – crinkled eyes, shining teeth, shining eyes – and smiled back.

**_THE END_ **


End file.
